The Arrogance of Good Intentions
by NewEnglandFan
Summary: Sheppard, his team, and Dr. Weir face a very difficult reality-check when meeting a new, fairly advanced society. Partly inspired by Season 5's "Inquisition."
1. Chapter 1  Blinded by Confidence

**The Arrogance of Good Intentions:**

**Chapter 1 substantially rewritten today, ****Feb 15, 2012. I increasingly haven't liked the original Chapter 1-I guess I was too eager to publish my first story! I hope you enjoy. If you missed the original Chapter 1-this new chapter fleshes out the skeleton of the old one and adds some new backstory, and some foreshadowing. The rest of the chapters remain the same; I just wanted to strengthen the intro and do more to grab your attention!**

**Reviews and feedback greatly appreciated.**

**Set between Season 2 and start of Season 4. My first fan fiction ANYWHERE (except inside my head). The story touches on a niggling characteristic of Stargate-SG1 and SG-Atlantis that bothers me. Inspired by that, and "Inquisition" (yes, that's Season 5, but I really like Elizabeth).**

Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla and McKay stepped through the 'Gate onto M5M 228. The landscape that greeted the team was a familiar sight in the Pegasus galaxy—green, but slowly fading to the rusts and golds of fall, the sky a mix of blue and clouds, and signs of a rather large and bustling town off in the distance. The smells in the air, however, were most likely (and unfortunately?) more recognizable to Sheppard and McKay—the smells of fuel and smoke and overall 'urban-ness' replacing the more common bucolic 'pungency' of their previous explorations.

This particular world, Kalassia, had practically "jumped" out of the Ancient database during a routine review to assemble a list of worlds for future contact. It was surprisingly more advanced than most they had visited, somewhat comparable, on a modest scale, to the late 1800's on Earth and experiencing an exciting era of innovation and industrialization. Teyla's pre-mission briefing had certainly piqued their interest, especially Sheppard's and Weir's. Teyla had described an intriguing world, with the town they were approaching as its central community. Kalassia was a trading hub, and offered thriving stores, warehouse space, and a strong banking system. The town also supported itself through small-scale manufacturing. Teyla and her people held the Kalassians in good regard. Although the original Athosian homeworld had been a smaller and simpler culture, with more basic goods to trade, they had found an eager market on Kalassia for their artisan crafts and agricultural products and expertise. Teyla believed that both Atlantis and Kalassia could also offer each other needed commodities and skills.

In reality, there was a limit to Atlantis' need for foodstuffs, herbal medicines, hand-made crafts, and the like. What really got the attention of the Lanteans (and made the Science Department staff just about drool) was Kalassia's reputation for advancements in science and technology, in particular, geology, mechanical engineering and construction.

Like so many worlds, Kalassia had suffered its share of Wraith cullings. But in recent times, as their technological abilities had advanced, they had gained a considerable edge over neighboring planets. Kalassians had been able to take shelter underground in fortified natural and man-made structures during attacks. To Sheppard, this brought to mind Londoners taking refuge in the deep Tube tunnels during WWII. Kalassia's tunnels also were a safe haven for equipment and documents, guaranteeing, barring a particularly savage culling or natural disaster, a fairly permanent archive of knowledge going back decades. In the face of adversity, Kalassians knew how to persevere, rebuild and renew.

As they neared the town, Sheppard's strategizing impulses went into overdrive. (Maybe it was the nice day and the fresh air. Maybe it was the prospect of meeting people who WEREN'T living in thatched-roof houses and growing crops.) Perhaps the people of Kalassia would be willing to reach out to their neighbors and share their skills; certainly, Rodney and the Ancient database could identify planets with suitable geology, and of course there were dozens of worlds much less advanced than Kalassia. Sheppard enthusiastically made a mental note (along with a mental smirk) to discuss this first thing with Elizabeth, Rodney and Zelenka on their return home; such a collaboration would benefit many planets and thousands of people, and would undoubtedly strengthen Atlantis' overall position in Pegasus and in the growing coalition it was spearheading.

As they walked, Sheppard started to pepper McKay with questions and ideas, but soon stopped. The trip into town was a bit long; although they had cloaked the Jumper, they had "parked" some distance away so as to gradually enter the town. This had set McKay to griping and providing a detailed list of his various body parts that wished they had more closely landed. Sheppard knew better than to interrupt _that _tirade. He turned his thoughts back to how Kalassia could help Atlantis and vice-versa (in his over-eager mind, the actual CEMENTING of the relationship was a given...). And, it would be _so _invigorating to interact with people with whom they might share a somewhat even footing-intellectually and culturally. It could be so damn hard to navigate the ways of simpler worlds; his team had stumbled too many times into some disastrous situation that they (probably) couldn't have anticipated.

This was going to be a very interesting mission, Sheppard thought. But not in the way he expected. Over the next few days, he and his friends _would _stumble, and fall, and wonder how they could get up, dust themselves off and start again.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2   What Just Happened?

Teyla led the way through town towards the Hall of Commerce and Industry. She made an effort to smile at those she passed and took careful note of what seemed new or changed in the structures and streets since her last visit, as best as she could, given that she had not been to Kalassia in more than 3 years. She had long ago learned to express interest in the people and customs of the communities she visited. This was key to building and maintaining a good rapport and strong partnership, regardless of the scope or value of what was traded.

As a member of Atlantis, she strove to guide her team-mates towards this goal—with varying degrees of success. It was often, to use a phrase with which Rodney would assault the ears of his staff, "difficult to get it through their heads." Colonel Sheppard was well-meaning, effectively charming when the situation called for it, and could be a fierce advocate for a cause or person, but he was a man meant for action more than words. He could be impulsive, impatient, and frequently (and rather endearingly, Teyla had to admit) socially awkward. Ronon was…imposing, scary, even, but that WAS sometimes an asset in negotiations as long as both Sheppard and Teyla kept him in check. And, his knowledge of Pegasus worlds, which complemented her own, was invaluable. Dr. McKay was…better off left behind in Atlantis when interactions with anything except inanimate objects were required. But that was unkind of her to think, and of course, that usually wasn't possible. Many worlds, even if they didn't offer other advantages, had Ancient or Wraith technology waiting to be found, studied, and perhaps taken back to Atlantis as the spoils of exploration. As long as Rodney didn't break or blow something up, or want to take it _sans_ permission from the local population, Teyla valued his presence as well. She was certain to thank the gods of the Ancestors frequently, however, for blessing both her and Elizabeth Weir with tact, grace and diplomacy as the list of peoples and worlds with which Atlantis interacted grew and grew.

The team was nearing the Hall. In the lead, Sheppard wore his "peaceful explorer from far way, just seeking knowledge and, you know, stuff to trade" game face, but was ever the alert soldier. People didn't always buy the image that was projected, as he'd learned on too many occasions. No matter how benign their objectives, off-world teams couldn't help but stand out—black uniforms and heavy boots, bulky vests and packs filled with who knew what, and the ever-present guns. It didn't matter if it was hidden, or how low down and close to one's side the weapon was carried, or if the team decided to play it safe and lay them on the ground right then and there—their weapons were formidable and usually bested those of the typical people they met. But protocol was protocol, and the way that teams conducted themselves, interacted with the inhabitants, and maintained security was considered tried and true by Stargate Command.

But, Sheppard found himself often forced to admit to a sense of….unease? impropriety? trespassing? boastfulness? when he stepped, many times uninvited, onto someone's home world. (If John dared to ask him, Major Lorne would admit to experiencing something similar.) Sheppard felt it more so with civilizations which were very vulnerable, technologically, but the thoughts could pop up anytime, really. However, perhaps because he couldn't quite define what it was (or didn't want to), his concerns never really grew beyond a niggling "itch" at the back of his mind when starting a mission. The task at hand quickly demanded his full attention and effectively quashed his musings.

The streets were busy and the sidewalks crowded. As a moderately-sized industrial and commercial hub, Kalassia was largely inured to visitors and strangers from many worlds, but the Atlantis team's presence quickly caused a stir. The team members were used to unavoidable attention when traveling and took it in stride as part of the job, but with a healthy dose of caution. In their own ways, each could mentally identify and catalog the familiar, initial reactions of people they encountered in Pegasus: completely startled faces; curious looks tempered by fear or politeness; amused and excited expressions; outright suspicion or hostility; or no reaction whatsoever (which was odd), to name a few.

But today, as they walked through town, stony-faced pedestrians were subtly but steadily gathering ahead of them, parting occasionally to let the group through but then, disconcertingly, a crowd was filling in behind the team with alarming rapidity. Sheppard became increasingly ill at ease and, glancing in Teyla's direction, saw the same discomfort reflected in her face and body language. She was completely taken aback by this behavior. Sheppard muttered a warning to Ronon and Teyla, and the especially jittery-with-a-gun McKay—the situation was escalating into…what? but with people packed so closely together they couldn't risk gunfire unless absolutely necessary. But the words had barely left his mouth when Sheppard, to his dismay, saw that his team had just been very skillfully manipulated, literally and figuratively, up against a wall. He and the others were so focused on maintaining some sort of forward motion as tensions rose that they failed to notice that the mob had been discretely misdirecting their course away from the Hall of Commerce and Industry. The crowd parted for the last time, and the Atlantis team-mates found themselves facing a wide and very solid-looking side of a large brick building. They were quickly relieved of their weapons—they struggled but only succeeded in getting themselves banged up. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and then they were slowly shoved towards who the hell knew what, with Sheppard once again mentally kicking himself for screwing up.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3 Self Deception, Painful Truth

**Chapter 3—Self-Deception and Painful Truths**

"You are Lanteans, responsible for awakening the Wraith. You are unwelcome visitors to Kalassia and are being detained until I decide otherwise. Why are you here?"

Sheppard sat with his friends, still bound and watched by hovering security guards, in the well-appointed office of First Minister Garvis Agron, one of Kalassia's most senior government officials. He felt more than heard the man's words. It was a familiar verbal blow, delivered in different ways on other worlds, but with the same desired effect. It was still acutely painful after 3 years.

Sheppard: "Yes, First Minister Agron, we _are_ from Atlantis. And from your, and everyone's, erm,…reaction… to us in your town, we're not exactly welcome." (Oh, he could have said that better; Elizabeth needed to go off-world with them more often.). He received a glare from Agron in reply.

Sheppard put his best diplomatic skills and disarming features to work, such as they were): "Let me…start again. I respect your feelings, sir, _really_, I do. We are trying to…mend fences…(Watching his eyes, Sheppard felt that Agron did understand what the Earth phrase meant. He launched into his standard "spin".) "Atlantis is seeking allies, partners, for trade, sharing expertise, and in fighting the Wraith. We have heard a lot of good things about Kalassia—your engineering skills, your tunnel systems, the output of your factories. Our two worlds could help each other. Our city has a lot to offer—we have medicines, technology..." (He got no further-Agron cut him off with a curt wave of his hand).

Sheppard was smart enough to recognize his own limits, and that he was rambling. He switched tactics and gave Teyla an imploring look. He saw Rodney turn her way as well, his blue eyes wide and agitated. Ronon, for his part, remained focused on Agron, scowling, evaluating. Yeah, sometimes it was good to be the silent type—less need to pull your foot out of your mouth, Sheppard thought.

"First Minister Agron," Teyla began serenely, "I believe you may know my family name? Emmagen. My people, the Athosians, have traded amicably with Kalassia for as long as I can recall."

Agron replied coolly: "I do recognize your name. How do you come to be with these people?"

Teyla knew she had to tread carefully, but still decided to tell (virtually) the complete story. Overt deception could only exacerbate matters.

She stated simply: "Colonel Sheppard's people came to Athos as explorers about three years ago. It was while visiting our world that they awakened the Wraith, accidentally and without malice."

Agron made a quick intake of breath. "How?"

Teyla prevaricated slightly; Sheppard did not need further difficulties heaped upon Atlantis's reputation as well as his own. "As leader of my people, I escorted them through our community, including some ruined structures. It turned out that a Wraith beacon had been buried in them for many years, and the Lanteans unknowingly activated it." She quickly added: "Please understand, First Minister—Colonel Sheppard's people are originally from very far away, where the Wraith and their technology are not at all known."

Agron: "Continue."

Teyla: "The Wraith attacked my world. Lives were lost—Athosians AND Lanteans. Colonel Sheppard and his people saved as many as they could. They rescued me and many villagers from a Hive ship. Colonel Sheppard's own commanding officer died that day."

Sheppard's breathing hitched sharply.

Teyla continued: "I owe Colonel Sheppard and his people my life. After the Culling, they welcomed my people into their city, and have since helped settle us on New Athos. They are loyal friends and allies."

Sheppard found himself staring at Teyla, rather than trying to decipher her effect on Agron, which is what he should have been doing. He had heard Teyla's impassioned defense before on other missions, but now it seemed to have taken on a different tone and meaning for him. Why?

Teyla finished speaking and waited politely for Agron to reply, feeling confident in what she had conveyed. She was surprised at how well her words were NOT taken.

After a painful silence, Agron replied: "Teyla Emmagen, you are courteous and well-spoken, but you have lived among the Lanteans for too long." He turned abruptly away from her, and went to stand directly in front of Sheppard. "Kalassia was culled by the Wraith 1 ½ years ago, for the first time in 60 years. Our technology that you so admire, our science, our protections underground—this failed too many citizens and off-worlders, as we were caught unawares; many could not reach safety in time." Teyla's heart sank as she came to a sickening realization. She _had_ noticed much new construction and renovation, but had thought it was merely a reflection of Kalassia's growing prosperity. It had not ever occurred to her that it was a painful rebirth after a Wraith attack.

Sheppard straightened in his chair as Agron continued: "We have had the wherewithal—financially and technologically—to rebuild and somewhat recover. The same cannot be said of many other worlds who were attacked around the same time—societies which are our friends—AND trading partners. Our economic fortunes were stressed, and continue to be so, but those on other planets have been decimated or are verging on collapse. As are their _populations_."

"Colonel Sheppard, as you are a soldier and leader of your people, I expect you are intelligent, capable, and deserving of respect. Teyla Emmagen has ably attested to that. But I am frankly stunned at your ignorance, at your blanket assumption that "fences can be mended." Perhaps you have been received on other worlds as you have just been on ours, and have not learned from the experience. Perhaps other societies feel more conciliatory towards your people—that is their choice. Or it may be that you have "bought" allegiance and congeniality—consciously or not—by virtue of the fact that you live in the lost city of the Ancestors and by association project their wisdom and prestige."

Sheppard could not control the shocked expression that remained too long across his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but wisely closed it without a sound. He looked at his friends, to both gauge their state of mind and to escape the painful spotlight of First Minister Agron's attention. Rodney was turning pink and staring off at a wall; Ronon seemed to….retreat, his previous hostility melting away. Teyla's eyes were downcast, and brimming with shame.

TBC…..


	4. Chapter 4  Under His Own Harsh Glare

Sheppard stood awkwardly as the 'Gate whooshed closed and his "escort" brusquely motioned for him to get back into their buggy-like transport. The team was still under house arrest, but this morning he had been allowed to contact Elizabeth via radio link. In the hours after their capture yesterday, confusion had reigned. No one had told them what would happen next. Agron had dismissed them to his security staff and gone off hurriedly, ostensibly to consult with other officials. The team had been moved to a disused building—ironically, one damaged by the Wraith and still under repair. To get there, it had been necessary to walk briefly outside. They hadn't exactly been confronted by villagers with torches and pitchforks, and thank goodness it was almost dark, but anger and resentment had rolled off in waves from the few people they'd passed. After an hour or so, Sheppard and Teyla had been summoned back to Agron's office. There was no precedent to the situation, he told them, and the team's fate was yet to be determined. Sheppard had then seen an opportunity and smartly jumped on it. He and Teyla had convinced Agron that they needed intermediaries to sort things out—one Dr. Elizabeth Weir, and a Kalassian of the First Minister's choosing. Sheppard had described Elizabeth's role on Atlantis, and her background, as glowingly and in as much detail as possible. If there was ever a time for a former United Nations negotiator, this was it. Agron was not a bad official, or person, just a man in an incredibly difficult situation. He had readily agreed to the terms.

During the short, kidney-bruising ride back to town, Sheppard nursed a headache and reflected on their predicament. They had certainly been in worse situations before, and he truly wasn't in fear for his life. However, there were lots of other unpleasant punishments to consider, and...oh, for Christ's sake, he didn't want to think about it.

Instead, he thought back to Teyla recounting to Agron the story of awakening the Wraith and again found himself wondering why he had paid particular attention to her the day before. Then, it hit him. It didn't matter—well, yes it did, Sheppard corrected himself, in the overall scheme of things—but to these particular people and this particular world and on this particular mission—telling the tale seemed…disrespectful to the memory of what had happened on Kalassia 1½ years ago. Sheppard had not been completely oblivious all these years—he would readily admit that the oft-told history offered something that was meant to soften the blow—going both ways. It _was_ self-serving, buffering the Lanteans from personal attack as the pure facts identified Atlantis as a fellow sufferer at the hands of the Wraith. But now, looking with a painfully objective eye, Sheppard saw that this time around the "saga" had gone beyond that. The Kalassians saw his people as questioning the validity of their pain and suffering. Sheppard's team had minimized their right to feel as angry and sad and devastated as they wanted, and to deal with the aftermath of the attacks in whatever way they saw fit. The positive light Agron had alluded to, cast by the Ancients upon Sheppard and his people, had missed its mark once they arrived on Kalassia.

Something on the street yesterday, as ordinary passersby had slowly morphed into a threatening, organic "wholeness" of purpose and feeling, had played on Sheppard's mind, making him receptive to the subtext that had always been waiting to be read. And he couldn't answer "Why today?". Elizabeth would arrive early the next morning. There was a lot to work out and, surprisingly, Sheppard realized, he was sort of betting on the Kalassians.

TBC…..


	5. The Best Defense is a Good Offense

**The Arrogance of Good Intentions, Chapter 5—The Best Defense is A Good Offense**

(Jan. 11, AM-added some phrases I forgot-stylistic corrections, basically. Please read and review!)

Elizabeth was shown into the chamber where negotiations would be held. The room was high-ceilinged, starkly elegant, and had minimal but handsome furnishings. Dust motes wafted in sunlight which streamed through 6-foot windows. A large rectangular table, on which were set a water carafe and tumblers, dominated the space. She had arrived on time, but had been kept waiting for several minutes in an anteroom. Elizabeth appreciated the strategy—the Kalassians held the upper hand and would take advantage of their position of power in ways both subtle and obvious. First Minister Agron was standing as she entered. He was rather short, slightly plump, and had an ordinary but pleasant face. He wore a conservative gray suit and the polite façade of a public official. Elizabeth was surprised to see he appeared only slightly older than herself. Sheppard and his teammates were seated to one side at their own, smaller table. There was no security present; they were already stationed in the outside hallway.

Agron: "Dr. Weir, please come in. I greet you on behalf of the Kalassian government. It is regrettable that our first meeting is under"…(he searched for the words)… "less than pleasant circumstances." Surprisingly, what seemed like embarrassment quickly flitted across his face.

Weir: "Minister Agron, on behalf of the City of Atlantis, I greet you as well. And, I do concur—I wish the situation were different."

Agron: "Magistrate Nevis will join us shortly. In the meantime, I imagine you wish to talk with your people. I will leave you to that."

Agron quietly left through a side door. Elizabeth turned to her team and did a quick evaluation of their appearance. Sheppard was in need of a shave, and looked tired and stressed out. He was doing his "Sheppard-best", though, to appear optimistic and eager to get down to business, and gave her a half-smile. Rodney was fidgeting with nervous energy, and his expression in no uncertain way said 'now, finally, can you take care of this and get us out of here?' Ronon was more angrily inscrutable than his usual inscrutableness. Teyla, to Elizabeth's concern, sat quietly and appeared as if a light inside her had been dimmed.

Weir: "John, Teyla, Rodney, Ronon—how are you, are you alright?"

Sheppard: "We're fine, Elizabeth, we're OK. Apart from our initial difficulties with the townsfolk, the Kalassians have treated us decently and…" Rodney cut him off.

Rodney: "Well, speak for yourself, Sheppard. Maybe you didn't mind those horrible excuses for mattresses, but my back is killing me, and I have a big bruise on my leg where someone from that mob kicked me, and…" Sheppard in _his_ turn cut Rodney off with words and a glare.

Sheppard: "…._and _the Kalassians offered us medical care that same evening, _and_ they gave McKay an extra big breakfast this morning after he [repeatedly] reminded them about his hypoglycemia." Rodney gulped himself into silence.

Weir: "Teyla? Ronon?" They each gave a too-silent nod that they were OK.

Sheppard: "Elizabeth, I tried to give you as much information as possible on the radio link, but…(he trailed off)."

Weir: "John, it was sufficient, really it was, and I understand the basic situation. It's not as if our people haven't faced hostility before over our role in awakening the Wraith. What concerned me the most was the violence, and that they didn't make clear the charges against you."

Magistrate Nevis took that moment to make his appearance, followed closely by Agron. Had they been eavesdropping from the hallway?

The Magistrate was quite the opposite of Minister Agron in appearance and attitude. Sheppard had told her that Nevis was retired, after having served as a judge on a body similar to the US Supreme Court on Earth. He was tall, thin, haughty and gray haired, and sported wiry gray eyebrows which tufted out in all directions from above the Kalassian equivalent of bifocals. He gave a brief glance in Sheppard's direction, acknowledged Elizabeth in only a slightly greater degree, and strode directly to his seat. Agron sat at the table as well, but some (cautious?) feet away from his imposing colleague.

Nevis: "Dr. Elizabeth Weir, I am Magistrate Nevis, formerly of the Kalassian High Council. Let us begin." And down he sat, arranging his papers and dispensing with a handshake or other formality.

(Elizabeth thought to herself: Um, OK, it was going to be one of _those_ kind of negotiations.)

Weir: "Magistrate Nevis, thank you for receiving me. As you appear eager to proceed, I'll get directly to the point. On what charges are my people being held? What is the nature of their offense?

Nevis: "They have been deemed a threat to home world security under our Code of Civil Prosperity and Protections."

Weir, eyebrows raised: "Really? Colonel Sheppard informed me that his team arrived through Kalassia's 'Gate, er…Ring of the Ancestors about ½ hour before they were accosted, sir, by a group of your citizens. He hasn't made me aware of anything his team did beyond walking quietly through your streets and casually speaking with people they passed. You're aware that they were visiting with the peaceful intention of making introductions and discussing the possibility of developing trade and other connections between our two worlds?"

Nevis: "They carried weapons…"

Weir: "Weapons, concealed or not, carried by citizens or visitors, are not illegal on Kalassia, Magistrate. We were careful to ascertain this before sending our team."

Nevis countered: "They were clearly recognized as Lanteans, given their dress and bearing. "

Weir: "And how is that relevant, Magistrate Nevis?"

Nevis: "It is well known that Lanteans are responsible for bringing the scourge of the Wraith back to Kalassia and this galaxy, decades ahead of the expected time. There cannot be a better definition of a threat to our security than the return of those creatures. The benign intentions which supposedly motivated your people's mission to our planet do not negate what they did in the past or protect them from punishment. And before you bring it up….Our laws under this Code allow for charges to be filed without regard for the passage of time, or whether the violation occurred on- or off-world. If a group is deemed to have violated our laws, as is the case now, individuals who are definitively determined to be members of it may be charged as representatives of this group for the purpose of assigning blame and imposing punishment. The crime need only be proved to have occurred, which it clearly has—the Wraith have ravaged countless worlds in the past few years."

(Elizabeth had her work cut out for her, Sheppard thought. But he was about to be surprised. Never underestimate Elizabeth, he had reminded Kolya.)

Weir: "Magistrate, one of the things that attracted us to Kalassia is your level of technological, financial and social advancement."

Nevis, puffing up: "Yes, we are very proud of our achievements. We have done well on our world, and across numerous others. We helm a strong network of trading partners. Our allegiances—for the purpose of friendship and mutual defense—are strong and, if I may say, envied."

Weir: "But it's not just the nature of your achievements that drew our interest. It's the fact that planets as advanced as your own are fairly rare in this galaxy. You do know _why_, Magistrate?

(Sheppard eyebrows went up. He wasn't looking at him, but Agron's did as well. Elizabeth seemed to have found a way to counter Nevis' tactics, and moved to exploit it.)

(Nevis opened his mouth to reply to Elizabeth, but never did. He was figuring out just a shade too late the trap that Elizabeth had set. She answered for him.)

Weir: "It's because your world, Magistrate, and others like it, are unique in that they somehow exist in a galaxy almost completely controlled by the Wraith. And the Wraith dominate how? by trying to destroy or subjugate anything that threatens their existence—societies beyond simple villages and farms, peoples evolved beyond huts and tribal living."

_**('Doug Flutie has the ball for Boston College…' Sheppard thought.)**_

Nevis found his voice again, if only briefly and in futility: "Are you _implying_, Dr. Weir," with as much indignation as he could muster from his rapidly deflating position, "that Kalassia brought this most recent tragedy upon herself? That the actions of your people in awakening the Wraith are of barely any consequence? And that we perhaps have drawn fatal attention upon ourselves throughout our history by just trying to escape a "primitive" life and aspire to something better? That much of our past tragedy is our own fault?"

_**('The Hail Mary pass is in the air…')**_

With sadness in her voice and expression, Elizabeth replied: "Magistrate Nevis…Kalassia hasn't brought tragedy upon herself from the Wraith. I'm sorry, I just wanted you to consider the possibility, and say it out loud. So that you could then understand that it's _never_ been the case, and hopefully never will be. The Wraith are an awful fact of life-and death-in this galaxy and we fight them the best we can. I do hope you can appreciate how your world is beating the odds—surviving and thriving, even though you sometimes take a step or two backwards, while so many other peoples are staying the same or slipping away."

"Yes, Colonel Sheppard and his team awakened the Wraith. He and I live with that fact every day. If you believe in Fate, or bad luck versus good, then use that to justify why this happened. Or accept it as a simple fact, and that it was an accident, which the people of Atlantis truly regret. But no crime was committed, and I will not allow Colonel Sheppard or any member of Atlantis to be punished for one."

"Magistrate Nevis and First Minister Agron: As politicians, I think you can appreciate how easy it is to emphasize your successes and downplay the things that are not?" (Elizabeth allowed herself a small grin.) "In our explorations in Pegasus, we've…stumbled many times as we've tried to navigate so many worlds and cultures. We've made mistakes of all shapes and sizes, many made by myself personally. We are certainly not immune to the temptations of greed and ego and pride. We can be quite good at deluding ourselves, and seeing only what we want to see." Elizabeth saw Sheppard look at her pointedly as she said this. "Whatever the outcome of our discussions today, I remain committed to a relationship with your people and your world. It's your decision if you choose to pursue one as well."

_**('Touchdown?')**_

**Now what? A brief concluding chapter will be posted in a few days! Please review, this is my first published fan fiction.**


	6. Chapter 6   Epiphanies

**The Arrogance of Good Intentions: Chapter 6 – Epiphanies**

A few weeks later…..

Sheppard was in his office, giving next month's mission schedule a final once-over so he could pass it on to Elizabeth, make it _her_ problem, and _finally_ get out from behind the desk. He never spent much time there anyways (sometimes Elizabeth teased him, doubting that he even had an office, let alone used it) but lately he had felt a need to give his paperwork extra attention. He had booked a sparring session with Teyla and Ronon jointly—ouch, what was he thinking. But he needed it, he definitely needed it. Not just to train, but to release pent-up energy. On Atlantis, he had always lived and worked by a code which guided him, which informed the decisions he made every day. But his experience on Kalassia had exposed flaws, and he didn't know how to fix them. A sense of guilt and self-doubt was nibbling away at his confidence.

Dr. Weir had come through again. Negotiations had ended after only a few hours. Her clever manipulation of Nevis—of his own words, his own pride, of his firm belief that the dispute was his to win—had been painful to watch. It was cruel, what she had done, Sheppard recalled, but necessary, and her twisting of words and facts had been mercifully brief. She accomplished what she had set out to do: open Nevis' eyes—and heart—to the fallacy of his own argument. She had let her opponent do most of the heavy lifting, so to speak, while she watched and waited. Not that Nevis had crumbled at the conclusion of Elizabeth's remarks. There had been a seemingly endless, awkward silence. Sheppard had literally been on the edge of his seat. But a tongue-tied Nevis had quickly regained his composure and risen sharply from his chair. They would consider her position and compose their response. He didn't hint at how long that might take.

But within an hour, (giving McKay barely enough time to start fretting), Nevis and Agron had returned. Their case had largely evaporated, but they had managed to stand their ground in some respect. Charges would remain as filed, but the official determination would read "insufficient evidence of criminal intent or action." Elizabeth had then softened her approach, ceding most of the control over the situation to her counterparts. She had assured them that Lanteans would not visit Kalassia again without permission. She hoped that friendship between their two worlds might be possible one day. Elizabeth had then explained the concept of, and arranged to provide on request, an IDC code should they ever wish to contact her or Colonel Sheppard in the future, for whatever reason. Sheppard and his team-mates were then immediately released.

SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA SGA

Sheppard and McKay were visiting MM1 567, a promising world identified not by the Ancient database, but by Teyla and Ronon. After Kalassia, Teyla had become deeply introspective. She realized she had forgotten who she truly was—which was an Athosian first, and a citizen of Atlantis second. So, she and Ronon, with Elizabeth's input and blessing, were revisiting many worlds and taking a more active role as the City explored new ones. Teyla hoped this would remind them of their roots, and enhance the knowledge and advice she and Ronon had to offer.

(In a village on MM1 567…)

Rodney: "Oh, what is this MADE of, it's really disgusting."

Sheppard: "Rodney, let me remind you of the 'phrase of the day'—blend in, not piss off the locals by criticizing their food."

Rodney: "Yeah, but do you see what color this is…?"

Sheppard: "For Chrissakes, Rodney—oh, hold on, they're here."

Rodney: "Oh, black is so not slimming for Dr. McCormick, she needs to lose a few pounds."

Sheppard, in exasperation: "How do you get _anyone_ to work with you, really, tell me?"

Rodney (after a pause): "Do we really look so...incongruous? conspicuous? I mean, come on….."

Sheppard: "Yeah, P-90s kinda clash with that herd of goats…"

Rodney: "…and those rugrats, erm, mud-covered little kids. Oh, God, is Richardson ogling that girl with the…?"

Sheppard, elbow-nudging: "Hey, look. There's Morak, the Primary Elder. His wife is carrying the Greeting Basket."

Rodney: "Huh, you were right. I was afraid he'd bring the "Full-of-rocks-to-throw-at-the scary-strangers" Basket."

Sheppard: "_That_ may show up yet. Eloran…"

Rodney: "The Seeress?"

Sheppard: "…just came stomping out of the Prayer Chamber…"

Rodney: "Uh, oh…"

Sheppard and Rodney had gone to MM1 567 a few days ahead of Major Lorne's team. They had arrived dressed in the rough-fabric tunics and trousers that seemed appropriate from the pre-mission intel, hadn't shaved recently, found lodging, and done their best to…not stand out too much.

Sheppard was responding to his own recent soul-searching: he craved a new perspective, the 'view from the other side.' He wanted to see Atlantis reflected in a stranger's eye, as objectively as possible. He had insisted that Rodney go with him. Something had to change.

Sheppard's holstered 9mm hid easily under the loose tunic. Old habits died hard, but new ones could, and would, always take root.

The End.


End file.
